Anticipation (13 page)

“Is it hot in here or is it just me?” Maggie said from beside her, and Blue tore her gaze from Eddie long enough to note the blush riding high on her friend’s cheekbones.

Someone was getting lucky tonight. Or, judging by the look of Maggie, the moment the game was over and she could get Rafel alone.

For a moment — a dangerous, heady split-second — Blue let herself imagine what she would do to Eddie if she got him alone.

Run her palms down his flat belly. Grip his firm ass in both hands. Lick his hot, sweaty chest…

She squeezed her thighs together, conscious of how wet and ready she was. She literally ached, she was so turned on, so needy, and it hit her then that it had been
months
since she’d had some skin-on-skin time with another human being.

Jesus. No wonder she was tense, as Maggie put it. No wonder she was sitting here with wet panties, hardly able to breathe because Eddie had taken his shirt off. The last time she’d had a lover in her bed was two or three weeks before the accident — and right now that seemed like a long, long time ago.

The thought had barely hit home before the Ink men punched the air and let out a mighty roar. Maggie leaped to her feet, dancing in triumph.

“Number one, number one,” she crowed, already running to the field to congratulate Raf.

Blue stood, smoothing her hands down her jeans, hugely relieved the torture was over. She could catch the tram home now, having done her bit for the Ink team. She was bending, reaching for her crutch, when she realized Eddie had broken away from the mob of celebratory, hugging men and was jogging in her direction.

Do not stare at his chest. Do not stare at his chest. Do not stare at his chest
.

“Hey, great game,” she said as he drew closer.

“Did you see that shot Raf took near the end?” Eddie asked, his grin almost wider than his face.

“I did. It was — Hey, what are you doing?”

She batted at Eddie as he took her crutch from her hand and tossed it onto the grass.

“You don’t need that. We’re doing a victory lap.”

He grabbed her hand, then turned and presented her with his broad, sweaty back, tugging her hand to place it on his shoulder.

“Jump on board,” he instructed.

Her mind went completely blank.

“Come on,” he urged, looking over his shoulder at her.

His face was flushed, his eyes bright, and for the life of her, she couldn’t deny him. She’d lost that magical, mystical power, it seemed, when a motorbike had slammed into her body two months ago.

She stepped forward and used her good leg to hop onto his back. Eddie caught her legs above the knee, carefully avoiding her brace.

“Hang on,” he said, and he broke into a gallop, heading for the Brothers Ink players still congregating on the pitch.

She clung to his back, both arms wrapped around his chest, knees squeezed tightly around his hips, and the next thing she knew she was in the thick of things, being kissed and patted on the back by a bunch of sweaty, heavily-tattooed men who seemed to believe they'd won Olympic gold.

Eddie eased her to her feet, and she exchanged jokes with the guys before Eddie boosted her onto his back again and walked at a more sedate pace to where they’d left their things.

“You need to eat more,” he said. “You hardly weigh a thing.”

“I weigh plenty. You’re just high on Viking hormones because you won.”

They reached the tree and he bent his knees and released her legs so that she could slide the short distance to the ground.

“I’ll grab my gear, then we can head off,” he said.

Her hands were slightly tacky from her contact with his sweaty chest and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to bring them to her face so she could inhale the smell of him.

“Okay,” she said.

Then she registered what he’d said, and shook her head to clear it as he took off toward the goal posts.

“Wait. Head off where?” she called.

“My place. Raf and Maggie are coming over for dinner,” he replied.

Blue opened her mouth to tell him she couldn’t come, but no sound came out. Instead, she simply watched in resignation as he reached the goal and stooped to sort his T-shirt from the tumble of discarded garments on the ground.

What are you doing?

She had no idea.

Then back out. Tell him you can’t do it
.

She didn’t say a word when he returned to collect her, though, and she didn’t object when he offered to piggy-back her to where his car was parked, either. Instead, she clung to him, digging her fingers into warm skin over hard muscle, and breathed in the smell of good, clean male sweat. Every inch of her body was on fire by the time he released her next to his Ferrari and she slipped into his low-slung car in a daze.

Eddie rehashed the game during the short ride home, and she used his distraction to try to get a grip on herself.

Because she had to. Because letting herself get this wound up around him was dumb and self-defeating and pointless. Not to mention dangerous. Very, very dangerous.

There had been a moment when he’d been carrying her when her chin had bumped against his shoulder and she’d been gripped with an insane, almost irresistible urge to open her mouth and sink her teeth into his flesh. She’d barely caught herself before she’d acted on the impulse.

That was how far gone she’d been.

“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” Eddie said as he pulled into the garage at the rear of his house. “Grab a beer, fire up the PlayStation, whatever. I won’t be long.”

“When are Maggie and Raf getting here?”

“Maggie said she wanted to grab some wine from home, so they’ll probably be an hour or so,” he said.

Blue remembered the glint in her friend’s eye and guessed it wasn’t a bottle of wine Maggie wanted to get her hands on.

Eddie came around and held the car door for her while she levered herself out of the low bucket seat. He’d put his T-shirt on, thank God, but he still vibrated with good health and energy, and being close to him was enough to make the small hairs on her arms stand on end.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” she said, shooing him ahead of her as she made her slow way up the path toward the back door. “Go jump in the shower, do your thing.”

“I’m not in any hurry,” he said easily, and she gritted her teeth and did her best to complete the short journey as quickly as possible.

“Right. Off you go. I’ll sort myself out,” she said the moment she stood in his living room.

Eddie glanced toward the kitchen. “You want a beer?”

“I can get it myself. Go, before you stink the whole place up.”

He headed for his room, and the moment she was safely alone she closed her eyes with relief. She was such an idiot, agreeing to come here. If past experience was anything to go by, the night would be a late one by the time Raf and Eddie finished cooking and they played the mandatory game of Trivial Pursuit, Eddie’s favorite board game. She’d be lucky if it was midnight before she could get away, and even then Eddie would probably insist on driving her home.

She glanced around the living room, feeling more than a little desperate. The sound of the shower firing up filled her mind with images to match: Eddie, naked, stepping beneath the spray, tipping his head to let the water wash over his face and chest…

She swallowed, aware that her heart was pounding out an urgent beat inside her chest, pushing blood around her body in anticipation of an act that wasn’t going to happen.

Because she wouldn’t be joining Eddie in his shower. She wouldn’t be touching his hard, well-muscled body. She wouldn’t be wrapping her hand around his cock.

Her sex tightened, the ache between her thighs becoming a steady throb of need. She let her head fall back, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as she imagined how unbearable the next few hours were going to be now that she’d worked herself up to such a fever pitch.

Her jaw set, she made her way to the main bathroom. Once inside, she shut the door and locked it, resting her head against the cool wood.

After a few seconds of listening to her own too-shallow breathing, she leaned her crutch against the wall, then popped the stud on her jeans and undid her fly. Eyes screwed tightly shut, forehead still pressed against the door, she slid her hand into her panties, almost moaning at how wet she was and how good it felt.

Images flashed through her mind as she slicked her finger over her swollen clit. Eddie laughing at her. Eddie’s strong arms, lightly dusted with dark hair. His chest and flat belly. The curved perfection of his ass. The lean power of his thighs.

If he was here with her, if he walked through the door
right now
, she wouldn’t bother with preliminaries. She’d tear his jeans off and climb on board, no words, no explanations. She wanted his cock inside her so badly. She wanted to feel him stretching her. Wanted to wrap her legs around his body as he pounded into her.

Her hips tilted forward, curving toward her swiftly moving hand. She drew in a harsh breath, holding it as she shuddered into climax, her pussy pulsing against her fingers.

Only when the last echo of ecstasy had passed did she let her hand still, turning her head so that her cheek was pressed against the door. Slowly she opened her eyes, staring bleakly at the wall.

Start to finish, it had taken her less than a minute to come. If Eddie truly had been in the room, she guessed it would have been even less.

She straightened, zipping her fly and buttoning her pants. Making her way to the vanity, she washed her hands, fighting a growing sense of helplessness.

She’d just crossed a major line. For ten years, she’d lived by a set of rules where Eddie was concerned. She didn’t get sucked into any dramas with his women. She never slept with men who looked like him or reminded her of him in any way. Period. And she never, ever let herself fantasize about him when she touched herself. She’d always known that that way lay madness, and she’d always kept faith with herself, quarantining her love and need for him from her own sex and fantasy life.

You are in so much trouble
.

She was — and she had no idea what to do about it.

Not a single damned clue.

Every day she hoped it would get better, and every day it seemed to get worse.

So what? Suck it up, princess. A little bit of thwarted desire never killed anybody. And if you need sex so bad, go find it someplace else, like you used to
.

It was a good idea. There were half a dozen guys in her contacts folder who would be at her place like a shot if she sent up a flare. Reid, for starters. Then there was Mac, and Lucas. She could call one of them right now and know that no matter what Eddie did or said tonight, no matter how many times he touched her or laughed with her or looked into her eyes, she had it covered.

Her phone was in her back pocket, but she didn’t reach for it.

The sad truth was, she didn’t want to sleep with any of her former lovers. She wanted Eddie.

Only Eddie.

Eddie stepped out of the shower, aware of a few new aches and pains thanks to the action he’d enjoyed on the soccer pitch. The Ink team had kicked ass — but that was always a given, considering how good he, Raf, and Renarto were. In fact, Renarto had been skilled enough to play soccer at state level when he was younger — a little fact they’d withheld from the guys from the coffee shop until
after
the game. Eddie laughed out loud as he remembered the chagrined looks on their faces when they’d heard the news.

He toweled himself dry quickly, aware that Blue was waiting. Man, it had been good to look up and see her on the sidelines. He’d been almost sure he’d convinced her to come, but not one hundred percent. She could be hard to pin down, sometimes. But she’d come, and now he would stuff her full of good food before whipping her at Trivial Pursuit. Just like old times.

He was pulling on a pair of jeans, his head full of the dishes he wanted to cook, when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, and he hesitated a moment before deciding to take the call.

“Eddie speaking.”

“Eddie Oliveira,” a husky female voice said. “This is Cleo, Maggie’s friend. Remember me?”

Eddie tossed the damp towel onto the bed.

“Cleo. What’s happening?” he asked easily, even though his heart was sinking. Unless he missed his guess, shit was about to get awkward.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Cleo asked, laughter in her voice.

“I remember you,” Eddie said.

The first time he’d met Cleo, she’d come into Ink to get her butt tattooed. She was a very sexy lady, and one thing had led to another during her appointment — not something he was particularly proud of eighteen months later. Especially because he’d bumped into her a couple of times since, Cleo being one of Maggie’s close friends. Nothing like being forced to look a mistake in the eyes to really make you regret it.

“Good, because I remember you. We didn’t get a chance to refresh that memory at Maggie’s birthday, but I was wondering if you’d care to help me out and we could have another go at that?” Cleo said.